


In Your Arms

by VisionaryGalaxy



Series: The Symphony of Our Catastrophe [12]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Boys In Love, Don't copy to another site, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mansion Fic, Morning Cuddles, Past Child Abuse, Protective Erik Lehnsherr, Scars, Short & Sweet, X-Men: First Class (2011)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 05:56:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19370845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisionaryGalaxy/pseuds/VisionaryGalaxy
Summary: Erik and Charles's first morning in the mansion.





	In Your Arms

   Erik woke as he always did. Suddenly and all once, muscles locking down as bleary eyes quickly took in his surroundings. The unfamiliarity of a space was often disorienting, especially as he gazed up at an ornate chandelier attached to a sprawling white ceiling. For a split-second Erik’s heart stopped only for the thrill of panicked adrenalin to disappear as a warm body grumbled and pressed tightly to his side.

   That was familiar.

   Erik glanced down to find Charles resting on his shoulder, hair messy from sleep, a little pucker between his brows betraying his awareness of Erik’s momentary uncertainty. Slowly, Erik relaxed his mind and muscles, sinking into the truly luxurious mattress and watching as Charles’s expression smoothed out.

   He blew a quiet sigh of relief, not wanting to bother Charles, who’d only slipped into bed around two am. They had arrived at the mansion yesterday and Erik had been surprised by just how much there had been to do in order to make it habitable again.

   They had all fallen asleep exhausted last night after consuming enough pizza for a football team, curated by Charles. It had been fascinating, watching him take charge of the house, watching him exist in this domain.

   Charles was a force of nature no matter where he was, capable of moulding himself to any situation and person he interacted with, a side affect of his mutation certainly. Here, though, it just felt different.

   Erik had questions, a lot of questions. Unfortunately, Charles had spent the entire day either directing them on what needed to be done, or with Raven at his side. That in of itself had been extremely telling.

   He had seen the scars.

   In a dingy motel room with the sound of rain pounding on the ceiling and windows, Erik had undressed Charles to uncover a mosaic of scars, white and silvery scattered across pale skin. The sight had first inspired fury in Erik, unable to imagine anyone wanting to hurt the man he’d gotten to know so well, who believed so strongly in good.

   Then he’d look up to find bright, defiant, eyes levelled on him and it had faded in an instant. There would be no pity from him, as was evident when Erik made quick work of his own clothes and let Charles run curious fingers over his own mementos.

   Many things were said that night but not a single one was about their scars. It didn’t make Erik any less curious.

   He wasn’t stupid though and there was no mistaking the shadows in Charles’s eyes as moved about the mansion. Then there were the more obvious signs, the one door Charles hadn’t even glanced at on the tour, the almost imperceptible flinch when Alex clapped him on the back, Raven’s protective hovering.

   More shifting and Erik unconsciously tightened his arm around Charles, tugging him closer. He grumbled slightly, an annoyed sound and then a brief pressure in Erik’s mind as though he was being reprimanded for his dismal thoughts this early in the morning.

   It was impossible to keep the smile off his lips, knowing it wasn’t on purpose and long used to Charles’s sleepy telepathic communication. Erik turned toward Charles and pressed a careful kiss to his hair, felt the presence subside in his mind.

   His eyes caught on a scar hidden just inside his hairline. Raising the arm that wasn’t crushed by Charles, he touched it softly, feeling the distinct indent that suggested it wasn’t a simple surface wound, a chunk of skin had been torn out.

   Despite himself, Erik felt his familiar rage surge forward, every atom in his body yearning to protect the man curled up in his arms. Charles wasn’t weak, no he was the furthest thing from it, was the most dangerous man Erik had ever met.

   Charles inspired love from people, even people who hated him. It was an effective defense mechanism born of his mutation. He was able to read and manipulate the people around him subconsciously, so he’d almost never have to use his telepathy as a weapon.

   Erik was starting to realize it was probably a learned behaviour and not an inherent ability.

   It was nearly impossible to imagine the hands that had given Charles his scars and Erik knew the worst of men. It was frightening to think of a young Charles taking this brutality and feeling helpless without knowing he had all the power in the world to stop it. Erik understood that special brand of self-loathing quite intimately.

   More significantly, however, was Erik’s complete and utter awe when he looked at Charles and his scars and none of the anger that so burned him every day. How Charles had endured and come out of it so god damn loving and happy and idealistic was mind boggling and Erik couldn’t comprehend it no matter how hard he tried.

   That too inspired something carnal and protective inside him. It shouldn’t. It would be better if Charles understood the severity of the world, if he taught him that not everyone held that spark of goodness he spoke of. Yet, the idea of watching those blue eyes dim like they had yesterday was almost excruciating.

_Erik?_

   The speed with which he blocked his thoughts left him dizzy and Charles disgruntled if the projection was accurate.

   Charles groaned and nuzzled into his neck and Erik decidedly did not feel his heart melt at the action, “you know mornings are hard and I wasn’t trying to read your mind, but you could really work on how loud you think.”

   Erik sighed, pressed another kiss to Charles hair and didn’t think about what he might have overheard, “how did you sleep?”

   “Brilliantly,” he murmured, which was a lie of course, Erik had felt him moving restlessly most of the night.

   “Ready to get up?”

   The hostility being projected at him was answer enough.

   “Alright, I think I’ll go for a run and when I get back, we can go over the training strategies you mentioned.”

   There was a long pause in which Charles didn’t move, the hand resting on his chest gripping his shirt tightly. There was the impression of a question coming from Charles and Erik really wanted him to wake up enough to control himself because this was still a bit uncomfortable.

   “Can you stay?” Charles murmured. “Just for a bit?”

   This time the image projected into his mind was deliberate and locked into place smoothly. Shadows and fear and a too empty room, echoes of pain. Erik’s jaw clenched, turning so he could gather Charles properly into his arms.

   “Yeah, you try to sleep some more.”

   “Thank you,” the gratitude was enough to make Erik lay there all day if he had to.

   Just because Charles was invincible, didn’t mean he wanted to be alone.


End file.
